Friday, May 18, 2012

Thought I'd try my hand at writing fiction

I read some where that the Internet is 55% porn and 45% writers.  I wonder are they writers of porn?  It is said the biggest difference between fact and fiction is that fiction has to follow believability.  They also say there's a kernel of truth in all fiction and that the true art is separating it from that truth.  Please allow me to offer this:

When I lived in South San Francisco with my wife we had a small apartment on the ground floor of a six apartment complex.  We moved there after moving around from place to place because we were making more money and things were getting better for us.  My wife had just gotten pregnant so we figured we needed a place closer to her home and family. 

Our next door neighbor was a man named Don Williams who lived with many girl friends, coincidentally all name Barbara.  He worked as a security guard at the local shopping mall and he stole things on a regular basis.  I always thought he was a bit strange and might've been quietly violent with his live-in girl-friends because I know they rarely stayed with him very long.

One incident I clearly remember was when he left a puppy in the garage.  This garage was a common area type space shared by three families.  I parked my car in one of the garage stalls along with an older woman’s daughter who attended college, and Don.  The woman had three other children in school and was working because her husband had left her for another woman about four years earlier.  Her life didn't need to be complicated by Don and she parked on the street anyway.

No one knew the puppy was in the garage because Don didn’t tell anyone!  Needless to say the puppy growled at someone and one of the three main garage doors was left open.  The puppy was let out by accident.  Apparently it was now lost.

Don went to each person who shared the garage and asked if they left one of the doors open and allowed his puppy to get out.  As he went from apartment to apartment he also had a gun in his hand at his side.  He told me that he was going to shoot the person he felt was responsible for letting his puppy out.  I assured him it wasn’t me and I said he didn't need to have the gun because I knew the woman was as scared as I.

Evidently, what I said didn't matter to him and I would learn a lot about him later.

The dog was found and all was forgiven, but Don never came back to update us.  The cops were called but didn't show and the woman moved away unceremoniously.  What an incident!

Meanwhile, I have always had a strong desire to cross dress and preferred men over women for sex but married a real woman so I would seem "normal and straight" to my family and friends.  I thought I was strong enough to be seen as another queer but I thought that's what they wanted from me.  But I digress. 

I hid my cross dressing desires and my homosexual likes from my wife.  While she was away at work, I was cross dressing almost every day.  I used lipstick and beard cover make up, otherwise I was without it.  I would put on a dress and heels and clean the apartment.  On the nights she told me she would be working late I felt I had plenty of time to go full out with complete face make up.  It was on one of these nights that Don somehow spied on me. 

A few days later he came over to my apartment, co-incidently, just after my wife was gone on her way to visit her mom in the city.  He knocked on my door and started a rather complex conversation.  I was wearing my bath robe as I answered the door.

He said, “Hi” to me and then told me he thought he saw my sister here at the apartment a day or two before.  I told him my sister has never been here and he must have been mistaken.  He looked at the floor and insisted she must have been here, or else he had been imagining it all.  We laughed. 

He then got very serious and pointed at my feet and asked, “Are you wearing nylons?”

I looked down at my feet.  I was totally focused on the time of my wife's departure and subsequent return  and was in the process of putting on my feminine underwear when he knocked.  I simply forgot to put on pajamas and slippers.  I just stared at him because I didn't know what to say.  He interrupted my answer by telling me what my "sister" looked like. 

I found his description disarming!  His choice of words were very exact.

He described my sister as being exactly my height, about my same weight, maybe a bit lighter.  She had dark shoulder length hair that easily could have been a wig, dark eyes, wore the perfect amount of make up to suit him by the way and, oh yeah, she had very nice full looking bright red lips!  He paused and said he really liked a girl who wore her make up a bit on the heavy side because it turned him on, it made him horny as hell.  He was holding his dick at the time and asked, ”Ya know what I mean?”

I ignored the fact I was obviously wearing pantyhose and told him again he must be mistaken because my sister doesn't look anything like me.  I said good-bye and began to shut my apartment door but he blocked me by using his foot.  He said he might have to agree with me about my sister but then asked if he could come in for a few minutes?

Not wishing to cause a scene and knowing he had a gun, I invited him in.  He asked for some coffee and I got it for him.  While my back was facing him he mentioned my nylon covered calves and said they were kind of sexy.  He also said heels would probably enhance my already nicely shaped butt.  I said nothing, I was thinking what does he expect from me?  What does he want?  We took our seats at the kitchen table and he went on describing "her" to me but this time in greater detail.

He said she was wearing a body shirt which was loud pink, long sleeved, and had ruffles up the front.  This was puled over a bright red bra, the kind that went down to your hips.  You could only kind of see through the sleeves.  He said she also wore a brown mini skirt type dress with a bib front, it was a full skirt with straps which buttoned onto the bib front of the dress, like a maid might wear.  He said he remembered his live-in girls called that an A-line skirt.  As he sipped his coffee he looked directly at me and added, “The skirt was so short I could see her yellow panties when she sat down next to the bed to put on her heels.”

I was absolutely shocked!  He must have seen me, but how?

He casually added that watching her do that was a real turn-on for him!  He said looking up a girl's skirt was something he really got off on and he was very glad for the fitted mini.  He went on to describe her jet black shiny nylons, and 4 inch silver spiked high heels.  When he finished he just smiled and sipped his coffee. 

I knew he was describing me from two days earlier and his description was to a tee!  I knew this because it was my only drag outfit.  I said, "I can’t think of anything to say, Don.  You obviously know no woman like that was ever here.  So, what do you want from me?"
He then said, in a reflective manner,  "I can even remember the make up she was wearing, too.  She had the brightest red lips, they shined like they had glitter on them, or maybe they were just coated in really shinny lip gloss.  Her lips stand out in my mind.  I liked looking at them."

"Anything else, Don.", I said.

"Her big seductive brown eyes were colored the perfect shade of blue and pink, with the longest, darkest lashes I've ever seen on a woman, they had to be fake.  Her cheeks were a very sexy purple-ish pink combo and the long dangly earrings with the tight necklace and wrist bracelets were a special turn on for me." 

Like I said, it was me to a tee!  This was also my best make up scheme!  To change the subject, I asked him about her tits, did he see them?  He replied, "No, I didn't really see her actual tits, nope.”  He sipped more coffee and suddenly he pointed his finger at me and said, almost as an after thought, “I didn't see no pussy on her either, though.”

There was a pregnant pause and he then looked me squarely in the eye and said, “I'll bet she would've sucked a cock!” 

I became angry and indignant and admitted he was actually talking about me!  I told him to stop it!  He seemed to ignore what I said and went on, “She just looked like she was the type that wanted to suck somebody's cock.  I'll even bet she would’ve sucked anybody's cock no matter who was willing to give it to her.  What do think, Bill?" 

I didn't know how to answer.  He finished with, "Ya know, now that I think about it, she could’ve been your twin sister.  I mean your identical twin sister, except for the moustache."

He stood, and with an exhaled breath for emphasis, said I should follow him to his apartment.  He said I wouldn't need any shoes, he had something on his bed for me.

I was somewhat dejected and didn’t finish my coffee, I just got up and went with him.  I suspected he was going to ask me to give him a blow job.  I didn't know how I'd do that but I would!

Once inside his apartment he looked me in the eyes, and while pointing at my feet, he told me I should quit playing games.  I hung my head and admitted to dressing as a woman, I was numb.  He told me to go into the bedroom and check out what he had for me.

I went into the bedroom to see what it was and I was only mildly shocked.  He had spread on his bed a new package of black seamed nylons, a new red and purple garter belt, the real wide kind with six belts, a black long-line bra trimmed with silver sequins next to a box of falsies, and an expensive long red straight hair wig.  There was also a shoe box with white heels in it and a red camisole trimmed in white fur with matching panties.  He also had a basic assortment of make up and a bottle of cheap perfume.

I turned around to face him and asked what he expected me to do with this stuff.  His smile was kind of evil and his answer was very direct.  He opened my robe, looked me up and down and said, "Simple.  Put it on.  Go kind of heavy on the make up, Bill, and especially heavy on your lips.  Use just a bit of the perfume and come back into the living room and show me what kind of woman you are.” 

"You've got to be kidding!" I protested. 

“Nope.", he said.  "I think you can handle that, baby."  And he moved in so close I could smell his breath and said, "If  I like what I see, I’m gonna be nice to you and fuck you in your faggot ass.” 

He backed away and said, "That's what you want isn't it, bitch?"

I was still a virgin and I was scared shitless!  I just knew if I stayed I would be raped.  I started to run.  I was going to head for the front door and go into my own apartment.  I had no clue what I would do if he knocked again. 

He grabbed me by my upper arm, spun me around and pinned my arm behind my back and held me up against the wall with his full body.  He stopped me very effectively.  Between his weight pressing me against the wall and his knee in my crotch he told me I might want to see some Polaroids he had also taken of me in drag. 

"I don't think I'm kidding, faggot!", he said.  “Now hurry up, we only have until your wife comes home in two days!"  He was wickedly laughing as he let go of me and walked away.

I didn't know what else I could do, I began to cry.  He came back to me and lifted my head by my chin and got real close and said he didn’t care if I cried like a little bitch, as long as I did as he told me.  I slid down the wall and sat on the floor crying, he lifted me back onto my feet and told me to go get girly for him.  He said, "To me you're a woman."

He also reminded me we had two whole days to get to know each other.  I resigned myself to the fact I was going to be sexually abused by him and sobbed as I got dressed for him.

I did my best makeup and when I was totally dolled up I went into the living room.  I was proud and stood in the middle of the living room and displayed myself to him.  He sat on the couch looking at me.  He made me turn around for him, slowly, so he could get a good look.  He had me turn around four times.  He walked over to me when my back was facing him and rubbed my ass, he said, "You’re one fine looking dick sucker, for a guy with a dick of his own.  I'm gonna like fucking you!” 

We were standing in the middle of his living room, I was dressed like a female whore and he was looking more and more like my date.  He told me he fixed some cigarette tobacco mixed with cyanide in a pipe for me while I was getting dressed.  Then he gave the pipe to me and lit it, he told me to smoke it.  He told me to take "manly" sized hits and be sure to in-hale.  While I smoked he rubbed my thighs and fondled my bare ass, he said with heels I actually made a pretty good looking woman. 

I took one big hit and got very high, very quickly.  Higher than I ever got before!  With just a few hits my head was buzzing and my vision was blurred.  I told him I was getting dizzy and couldn't take any more.  He insisted I take more hits and pushed the pipe back into my mouth.  I sucked down a few more times and I managed to tell him I could barely stand.  My voice sounded slurred to me as if I were drunk and I think he said, “Then get on your knees, faggot!” 

He let me fall to my knees and then laughed.  He told me, “Go get it, fag”. 

I fumbled to open his pants and because my vision was blurred I think his cock was about four inches long, thick as anything and perfectly straight.  I licked his shaft a few times and sucked on him in the middle of his living room with only the sheer curtains to block the view of the people who were walking past his ground floor window.  I'm certain they could see what was going on because he told me a few did double takes. 

Don moved us around so we gave a perfect profile.  I hoped they couldn't make out details, but I know they saw someone dressed like a whore doing the nasty on a man!  His cock grew a bit larger and got stiffer as I sucked and licked.  He was not cut and he was oo-ing and ah-ing along with calling me dirty names.  Soon he announced he was about to shoot his load into my faggot mouth.  I recall he felt as if he had more cum in him than any of the men I saw in the pornos I owned!  His semen was like thick rope!  It tasted like the usual salty raw warm eggs and flooded my mouth.  Some dripped out over my lips.

He told me to stay on my knees and not to wipe my mouth.  I did.  He said, "I want to remember this moment forever." 

He got his camera and told me to pull my panties down so my penis and testicles were visible in the pictures.  He took full frontal pictures of me, both close up and distanced.  My face, complete with eye make up, moustache and cum dripping red lips was very clear.  It would be difficult for anyone to not see this was me cross dressed and queer finishing up a blow job.

We slept together that night and I lost my anal virginity to him as well, he hurt but I became his "woman”.

I also became his on demand suck bitch from that point on.  He always made me smoke and took pictures afterward which he said he would use to black mail me for more oral sex.  This went on for almost a year.    He didn't have to!  During that time I'm sure I willingly gave him more than 175 blow jobs.  All at my convenience sure, but usually the way he liked it and where he wanted it done. 

Months and months later we were caught in the laundry room by Ralph, a man who lived upstairs from Don.  Ralph didn't know me but he saw me on my knees holding onto Don's rock hard cock.  I looked back at him and just put Don's hard on in my mouth and began sucking.  I wondered what he thought when he saw that.  He watched me for quite some time before he left us.  Luckily for me Ralph was also a very heavy drinker, so he must’ve thought I was just a queer who lived in the apartment on the other end of the building and Don liked queers.

Other times, when we had more time because of my wife's absence, I would wear very heavy make up and dress like a complete slut.  Usually Don drove his car very slowly through residential neighborhoods and had me suck his cock.  Sometimes he wanted me to suck it and it mattered little if it was day or night while we parked at the mall or in the park.  I'm sure passers by saw us because he would tell me about them.  He got the usual charge out of being the dominate male and putting me on display as his bitch.

I hated Don at first, but I actually came to like him.  I'd been is "he/she bitch" for almost a full year and Don began stealing clothes and things for me from the Mall where he worked.  Lots of pretty things, expensive things, things he called pay for services rendered.  I confess it was almost normal! 

It was a bitter sweet relationship that ended with him moving away, I never saw him again.  I did look for him because I actually missed him.  I had no idea where to turn to for man sex!  I remember that he would get very excited when he was with me and he would always cum very quickly. 

The one thing that stands out in my mind the most is that he always told me “Thanks” after I did him.

Little did I know Don was to be the beginning of a new life for me!  He established the hunger for men in me.  Thank you, Don, where ever you are.

My wife never learned about my cross dressing and homosexual trysts with him. 

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